When my soul with these words is reprieved'Tis in this lifetimeThat joy will be recievedWith these hands my destiny shall be weaved With unabashed vigour my pupose achievedWhen joy will knock not guised as a pantomimeYes, 'tis in this lifetimeCandy Morrow

Sunday, 9 December 2012

If you do not have younger women and girls you call family then you may not understand the depth of the pain I feel when I witness a young girl seduce an older man.. You may not understand that sisterly love is not confined to a sister of the same blood.

Flattering as it may seem to him, I wonder if he stops to wonder what his own are doing while he entertains another man's little princess ,shatters another man's hopes and dreams, his daughter.

I know that the men should carry part of the blame, but lets refain from hiding behind the shadow of blame-shifting. It is but only a shadow.

Ladies should we be pointing unclean fingers at all and sundry when we could be leading by example?

I'm not ashamed to say, "I am imperfect and that to this day I am WITH my own faults."

But do not be fooled into mistaking my faults for my defining traits.

I am a woman of God and not a woman born of human flaws, therefore my flaws do not have the power to reconstruct the definition of me.

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Name-calling your neighbours daughter over lunch to animate your guests, is this the moral fibre that threads through society?

Know this, "I will fight for my sisters, I will not bow in shame or turn a blind eye, I will speak and you will listen!"

It is not my place to keep a tally of the sins my a sister has commited, not my place to tell of her story when I've never walked in her shoes.

My place is to love, to pray for the revival of a spirit of sisterhood amongst us, to embrace and praise every woman for the efforts that they make towards a better life.

I may not change the world or save it, but if one young woman pays heed to my voice, then my life as a woman will not have been in vain.

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Love:Candy Morrow

A poem written for dVerse Poets Pub in the First Person Narrative.. The poem was inspired by a scene I witnessed while out on the town last night.